


Warm

by Aminita



Series: *Wolfmen and Orions [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Implied Torture, Lore Incoming, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Politics, Slow Burn, Star Trek style Orions, Werewolves, Wolfmen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-09 02:57:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14707820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aminita/pseuds/Aminita
Summary: An AU of Julia and Thompson in a world where Julia's family never left Orion and Thompson was exiled not far from the Orion Embassy.Eventual sex but don't expect it for a while there is a trunk of baggage here.  Will expand upon my personal lore for Orions and their civilization, featuring Ambertier(in a terrible light but for story purposes)'s Orion embassy and the less than savory workings which goes on there.





	1. Cold

The snow came down, thick flurries that clouded her vision, caught in her hair. The sun shone through the twiggy trees, casting an eerie light on the surroundings. She looked up - she could stare straight at the sun, seeing the usually too-bright golden or, shrouded in a thick layer of cloud, distorting the light and making it fuzzy and dim.

Her teeth were chattering, the only sound she could hear in the strange silence of the snow muffled forest. She clutched her soft shrug around her, wishing her thin gloves were more substantial, wishing she had a hood, any protection against the biting chill wind that threatened to topple her over. 

She wished her boots were thicker, as she could feel the snow falling into them and melting, making the arduous task of continuing forth that much more difficult. But to turn back was more dangerous than the prospect of falling down, dead in the soft snow.

Just thinking of what they would do to her if she was caught spurred her on, trudging quickly through the fallen snow. Deeper and deeper she found her way into the forest, the light fair, the snow thick. She couldn’t stop her teeth from chattering now, but her shivers had stopped. Ahead, she thought she saw a bend in the earth, maybe something she could use as a shield against the biting wind. So engrossed with the idea of being out of the cold was she, she didn’t even see the drop to the frozen creek coming.  
———————  
There was little to hunt in the accursed snow. The chill wind and thick flurries had sent nearly all animals scurrying into their burrows, cozied up with fat bellies. Or, for the unlucky ones, meager gains and the hope their hidey hole would sustain them through the winter.

He was trying a new area of the forest, much further out than his usual area. Food was so scarce he either had to widen his circuit or accept starvation. The snow was deep enough that it brushed his shaggy underbelly, as he kept on.

Then he caught something. It was a faint whiff, something delectable, mouth-watering. He turned and followed the new scent, abandoning the few days old squirrel he had been tracking. This was bigger, and much more delicious.

Large footprints carved through the snow. Bipedal, he though as he followed in them. Some sort of. . . Human? It looked like a shoe print, albeit not a shoe designed for this weather. No matter. The scent was stronger now, singing out to him, calling like a siren would call to a fresh sailor. 

The tracks were very fresh, the falling snow having done little to obscure them. He followed them through the trees, noting that despite the lack of blood, the way the prints wobbled and the depth was clearly showing the creature was wounded. 

But the smell of it was intoxicating, and so he followed the tracks, stopping just shot of a long drop. The edge of the cliff led to a fifteen foot drop, icicles dangling under the edge and over a large, frozen stream. His prey was below, laying in a spiderweb of cracks in the ice, curled on its side. It was injured, clearly, and unmoving. 

He carefully backtracked, working his way around to find a much gentler slope to the lake. As he followed his nose, approaching his quarry, he could see it had drug itself closer to the shore before collapsing, a sickly green trail behind it and pooled where it had dropped.

He approached his prey, sniffing it cautiously. It was human-like, but with skin the color of the ivy leaves which bloomed in spring, and wild, tangled hair reaching half way down its back. He nudged it with his nose, then put some effort into rolling the delicious smelling creature over. 

She was female, breast rising and falling slowly, eyes slut, face disturbingly ashen compared to her body, covered in blood around a broken nose. She was wearing rags that smelled of potent antiseptics and overuse, sweat and fear. She wore a simply tunic and torn leggings, a large gash in her side oozing green blood sluggishly. The tips of her fingers were tinged with frostbite, snowflakes clinging to her hair and her eyelashes.

She was certainly still alive, but she clearly wouldn’t make it through the evening, let alone the night before succumbing to the cold temperatures. Snorting, he walked around her, trying to find the best way to move her. Finally he grabbed the back of her shirt and started dragging her to his den. If she died, he reasoned, he could eat her. And if she lived, perhaps she could return to wherever she had come from and come back with food.

He wasn’t sure how well she would make it, though. She was skin and bones, and honestly, he wasn’t completely sure how well she would taste. She smelled appetizing, but the green blood trickling out of the hash on her side seemed. . . Highly unusual.

But he wasn’t going to leave the sweet-smelling snack out here to freeze to death. So it was decided he would drag her back to his den, and that was that.  
—————————  
Julia woke slowly, all the aches and pains in her body pushing to the forefront of her mind. She kept her mouth closed, fearing what punishments should occur if she was to cry out. Her ribs hurt, and her side was raw and sticky. Her arm throbbed hard enough to make her want to puke, and she might have given in to the urge if she had eaten anything in the last several days. 

Slowly, she was made aware she was sitting on several warm furs, in a warm place with a faint smoke smell, and something sizzling -

This was enough to jolt her to full awareness, and, it seemed, her body into trying to move, to attack or defend, she wasn’t sure. Either way, it was not a good thing. She couldn’t help her muffled yelp, feeling the clicking in her chest of clearly broken bones, the swelling in her shoulder where she was sure she dislocated something or the soreness of feet which had taken her miles from her prison. Her stomach growled at the faint scent of meat, and her throat felt like rough sandpaper when she swallowed.

She was discombobulated as she looked around to try and figure out where she was. The last thing she remembered was blinking to consciousness, seeing the shattered ice, feeling the hole in her side, trying to crawl across the snowy, icy river to he bank, and then - how had she gotten here?

It was a cave, or at least the very indented hollow of the bottom of a cliff. It was big enough for herself, the pile of furs she was upon, and the man across from her, who was focused on the ground, back to the opening of the cave.

Then he looked up. If she wasn’t so afraid he was going to hurt her, she might have marveled over his dark skin, the knot of think, nearly black dreadlocks he had tied behind his head. Moreso over his very muscled physique, and the way he wasn’t wearing a shirt despite the cold air still leaking in from the opening of this hole.

“Shhh,” he murmured, staying on the other side of a curious pit with a clearly scavenged grill over it. “It's ok, just lay back. You're - Well, to say in bad shape is sort of an understatement.”

She really felt like it, too. Her chest was throbbing, and her head was pounding, so she lay back into the warm pile of furs behind her, trying to catch her breath. She tried to remember if she had crawled here. She didn't think so.

“I'm boiling water. When I bring it to you, don't move, ok?” His voice was soft, like he was dealing with a frightened animal. Hysterically, she thought that must be exactly what she appeared to this rugged stranger. Slowly the man made his way around the hole in the ground to her, holding out a tin can half full of water.

“Be careful, it's hot. Drink slowly.” He didn’t even let her hold the cup, gently but firmly holding her hand down when she tried to reach for it.

She did her best, but the allure of the fresh water, hot or not, was too much and she tried drinking as much as she could, whimpering when he pulled it away and flinching back.

“It's ok, I just don’t want you to get sick. Can you talk?” She slowly nodded her head, afraid to speak, still watching the water cup in his hand. Slowly he brought it back to her mouth, letting her take small, blessed sips, pulling it back if she started to get too greedy.

He let her finish all of the first cup, then brought her a second. Her throat, formerly parched and sore, actually felt better.

“My name's Thompson,” he told her after her second cup of water, moving back to his original place across the hole, deftly working on skinning and dismantling a squirrel, setting pieces through a skewer and putting them over the hole. “Can you tell me your name?

She licked her lips, self conscious for a moment. When was the last time she was asked for her name? But he had asked, and had been nothing but nice. 

“It's Julia,” she whispered, the soft answer all she seemed capable to give. That seemed to satisfy him though, as he grabbed another stick and started whittling another skewer.

“Are you hungry, Julia?” She thought of all the things she had done for food, considered telling him no. But the aching hole that was her stomach clawed at her, and she couldn’t lie. 

“Yes,” she whispered, afraid of what the price would be for even the smallest piece. He just nodded and continued filling the skewer, putting it beside the first.  
—————————  
She was awake. At first, he had doubted she would ever wake again, with her paleness and how skinny she was. For one so small, she was heavier than she seemed, and yet it had been almost too easy to pull her limp body to his home. 

Now she watched him, with dark chocolate eyes, like that of a wounded deer. She was curled on his bed, one hand unconsciously flitting to her side where he had sewn her up and bandaged her, and yet she watched him as if he would strike at any moment.

“Where are you from, Julia?” He asked conversationally, hoping to ease her so she would be calm. He saw how she had hesitated when offered food, and it was clear she had been abused by. . . Someone, something. But clearly this was the wrong question to ask, as she flinched further back into the furs and did not answer. 

He sighed. This little mouse was offering him nothing. Perhaps a full belly would loosen her tongue? He turned the sewers over his in-ground fire, satisfied it was just about cooked through. The scent was very enticing, almost as good as the shivering creature across from him. He offered her the fuller skewer. 

“Here, be careful and don't burn your mouth.” Very slowly and tentatively, she took it, eyeing him all the while, before tentatively biting into a piece. 

They are in silence for a while, the soft crackling of the fire and the sound of the snow falling outside a soothing counterpoint to their chewing.

“So,” he began when he finished his last piece, looking up to find her skewer as clean as before it had food on it, “What are you, anyways? I've never seen something as green as you, or something that bled green.”

She was silent for a long moment. “Orion.” She Finally said, hesitantly, like he was testing her and she was unsure she passed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julia and Thompson sort-of get to know each other. Unbetad, probably has spelling errors, it's really a shitshow but if I don’t post it I never will so HERE HAVE SOME MORE. It's too short for a chapter but I have given up on myself and this, as should you

“I've never heard of that before.” It was only a partial lie - he had heard the name bandied about when they were building the large infrastructure off the ways, but it was so far outside his usual hunting grounds he had ignored it.

She watched him quietly, almost appearing puzzled, glancing at the empty skewers now and then, before she started to blush. “Ah. . . Could you. . . Help me outside?”

He was taken aback. “What for? I have the fire in here so it's warm, and I can cook more water -“

“It's not that,” She interrupted him, voice firm, if trembling with embarrassment. “I - um, well, I could, um, with the water - “

He immediately understood where she was getting at and felt his own face heat. “O-oh, right. Sorry, hold on - “

She was quiet as he helped her up and off to a sturdy tree. He'd flushed further red when she asked him where she should go to relieve herself, and almost seemed surprised when he'd helped her around the trunk and fled back to his cave as fast as possible.

He sat for several minutes, waiting to hear her call him, and it wasn’t until he heard a muffled cry that he got up to find her, sprawled in the snow. 

“I told you I’d come help you back,” he chided her, helping her back into the warm cave, noting the way her shoulder was swollen and purple green. 

Her teeth were chattering as she shook her head. “I d-didn’t want to b-bother you.” He helped settle her on the furs, and then the really embarrassing bit began. He cleared his through, blushing as much from her smell as the girl himself, and straightened. 

“You need to put that shoulder back,” he said. She just nodded. “I can help you.” She shook her head. But seeing how swollen and bruised her shoulder was, he made a decision. 

“I can do it. I just need something solid to - HEY OW THAT HURTS - “ despite her protests, he reached over, easily grabbing the joint, pulling it away and snapping it back into place while she screamed.

She jerked back like a wounded animal, baring her teeth at him, the thick heady scent emanating from her almost enough to scramble his brain. Thankfully, he was right by the cave entrance, and the fresh air helped cut through the fog. 

“S-sorry, but it's been hours, and waiting longer could have damaged the tissue beyond repair,” he explained, rubbing the back of his head. What was that smell that sent his blood south, and his brain on vacation? 

She didn’t reply, just watched him warily, her hair a snarled halo around her as she cradled her arm protectively to her side, curled back against the wall. She was like a feral, wounded wolf, and while he understood the need to tend to one’s self in private, he wasn’t going to let her stubbornness make her lose her arm.

“Anyways, “ he muttered to cut through the frosty silence between them, “I was thinking maybe you could, Ah, explain why you were out in the snow, before?”

She answered nothing, watching him icily.  
——————————————  
He had been almost shocked when he hadn’t demanded anything for the food. When she gave him the easy out, gently suggesting she relieve herself, he had fled in mortification before she could even hint to him how he could extract her payment.

Her former guards had never missed an opportunity to watch her, chiding her and laughing as they forced her to hold her bladder until it felt like it would burst and she was holding in tears. They had laughed at her as she wet herself over a tin, warning her between their chuckles should anything spill over the tin she would be ordered to clean it. They laughed at her pained expressions, her large labia, the way her legs trembled to keep her squatting over the pan.

So when her mysterious savior hadn't even tried to spy on her - ? Perhaps she was in worse shape than she thought? So undesirable even a hermit couldn’t appreciate her. 

She had tried to mediate this disgrace with limping back to the cave on her own, but her bruised legs failed her and she fell over. To further her humiliation, there he was, helping her up and inside. A new thought struck her - perhaps all these favors were to build to something bigger? Something awful, something she was forced into because she was so indebted? Or, worse yet, perhaps he was a sadist, preying on pain.

Maybe he was lulling her into a false sense of security, patching her up, like feeding Hansel and Gretle before cooking them, or torturing her. The idea made her blood run cold. She was snapped back to the moment when he started commenting on her shoulder.

She started to dissuade him, but then his eyes firmed, and he leaned in, tugging the abused flesh back, straining the already strained joints until they felt like they would tear, before letting the bone pop back into the socket.

It was all she could do to keep from screaming. He was a sadist, he wanted to hurt her, she never should have left, it was like her handlers always told her -

She scrabbled back on the pillows, watching him warily. He held up his hands placatingly, speaking of damage to her, but all she could feel was pain, from her legs and her sides and her shoulder and her face - and worst of all, her heart.

She knew better than to trust men. They only every showed up, paid attention when there was something to be gained.

Then he had the gall to ask her where she was from. Perhaps he was seeking the reward they had surely posted for her. Well, he could get used to silence! She wouldn’t tell him a damned thing. Now she regretted telling him her name - although she doubted he could use it.  
———————————————  
She was glaring at him like he had committed a mortal sin, some sort of terrible crime. 

Well, he had no idea what he had done wrong, but he recognized a hostile she-wolf when he saw one, and so he shrugged. 

“Look, I don’t have anything in reserve, so I have to go hunting, ok? If I leave, can I trust you to keep the fire going and smoke free?”

She was silent for several minutes before giving him a jerky nod. He couldn’t help but smile, at least for once he would get back and the cave wouldn’t been cold and empty.

“Ok, good. I'll see if I can get any nettles, or something herbal for you pain. I bet your side hurts a lot. . . “ he's have to see if he could find any roots or berries, too. Under all the snow he doubted it, but she would definitely need something to take her mind off of what must otherwise be all consuming pain.

He got up, moving the fur he had been siting on over to her, settling it on her lap, fussing to make sure she was covered. He then brushed her hair back, took one last deep breath of the perfume of her smell and headed out of the cave.

It took him until he had transformed to a wolf and was wandering the snow again to realize he had already mentally assigned her as his mate.  
—————————  
She had been sorely tempted to tell him no, when he asked to keep the fire going, but the idea that he might hurt her further, that she would be cold and unable to help herself if she upset him, made her nod. 

This seemed to please him, because he came over to her and tenderly put his fur around her, tucking it under her legs and around her shoulders, careful not to jar her swollen and tender one.

It was almost enough to make her forgive and forget, because the motion seemed so genuine and caring. Perhaps. . . She was jumping to conclusions. Maybe he was merely a lonely hermit that didn’t understand proper customs? 

She herself had had trouble with some of the Earth ones, when she was requested for the base. If he had been a hermit a long time, perhaps he was as well. 

She scooted towards the fire, considering this idea, mulling it over in her mind. The fire was in a deep pit, with a small pile of twigs beside it, all stripped of their leaves. There was another small opening, leading down at an angel to the fire, like an air vent. She was careful to keep it uncovered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why are you still here? If you're still reading this swill, maybe consider subscribing/bookmarking/leaving a kudos because for some ungodly reason it makes me want to write more of this drivel
> 
> If for some reason, this hogwash was mildly appealing, check out Editor1 her things are MUCH better than mine, and she actually puts polishing efforts in.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first time doing a chaptered thing and I am horrible about schedules. When if the update? Who knows! If you like it, please subscribe/kudos/bookmark it. It gives me and my muse inspiration to keep writing, therefor making chapters appear faster. They'll appear without them but. . . Probably slowly. I’m terrible I’m sorry.
> 
> If you even think this is remotely interesting, go check out Editor1 her shit is SO much better than mine.


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